


Someday

by Mercy_Wonder



Series: Dimidue Slowburn [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (for the first chapter), And Dedue Disobeys For The First Time, But With Little Interractions Since Dimitri Thinks Dedue's Dead, Dedue's Sacrifice, Dimidue, Dimitri Figures Out Too Late What He Wants, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Escape, Feelings Much Present, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Imprisonment, M/M, Nightmares, POV Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Post War Declaring, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Reunions, Still, break out - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-28 14:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercy_Wonder/pseuds/Mercy_Wonder
Summary: "Things will happen in time." Dimitri had told himself once, when he decided not to act too precipitately.What happened in reality, before it was time, was war. And war took everything from him.





	1. Chasing Light

**Author's Note:**

> Good day/Evening!  
Comes the inevitable time of the Time-Skip, where we dive head first in the drama and leave behind the sweet days of the Academy.  
It will be a fic in three chapters, one Pre-timeskip, the other "during" timeskip, and the last one after the timeskip but before the end of the game.  
I hope you'll like it! :)

Dimitri always thought things happened in time. 

He always thought that he should not feel too precipitated about personal things. That he had to focus on the most important -become the king of Faerghus- And that only then, he would have all the time for the rest. It will happen in due time, he had often contained some of his impulses with those words. 

But in reality, things did not have the time to happen. In reality, things were not as perfect as he had convinced himself, on that night of the White Heron ball. Because so shortly after, there were demonic beasts, the murder of captain Jeralt, and traitors within the ranks of the monastery. And then, too much. The Flame Emperor, those who slither in the dark... There was no due time.

He feels spat on by the way events unfold before his eyes. Edelg- No, that woman, the one responsible for the tragedy of duscur. She was just here, within his reach and somehow, she escaped. Somehow he could not get to her, and get his revenge. He could not- Then Garreg Mach was attacked by the Empire. Then the professor disappeared. 

Now... Now things are only darkness. Darkness and quiet voices in his head. 

The cell he is imprisoned in his not small, but terribly empty. The gray stone walls, covered in mold, make it feel much smaller. There is so much silence, only allowing him to hear the quiet voices better. He knows he is not the only prisoner here. But the others are so silent. The cells are so cold. He can't even hold himself to try to give himself the illusion of warmth. His hands are locked to the wall by iron chains. His wrist hurt him, red from all the frictions, the vain tries he had to escape. 

He tried everything the free himself from those chains. He went as far as dislocating his wrists. But it wasn't enough, and all he has now is the pain as a reminder of his miserable failure. He is only a war prisoner, in his own kingdom. In the capital he was supposed to live in, in just a few month, after the end of his studies at the Garreg Mach Academy. He is locked like a beast under the castle he was supposed to rule and fix Faergus from. 

Dimitri was supposed to be king. In a few days he will only be a corpse. 

He lets his mind wonder away, as he always does to try escape from here. At least his mind can run away. He wonders what happened to everyone in the Academy. What happened of the Blue Lions. He can only hope that they all went back to their homes, to their families, safe. 

But he can't stop to think that maybe, maybe they're all dead. 

It was all so chaotic, during the Empire's assault. He couldn't see everyone. He couldn't know who survived, and who perished under the assaults of the ennemy. And even though some of his old classmates survived, he thinks things will never be alright, for them. Even if they are safe in their lands. He doesn't know if the houses Fraldarius, Gautier and Galatea of his childhood friends will yield before the Empire, and disappear, or if they will rebel and be crushed under its power. He doesn't know what territory Ashe will fight for. He doesn't know what will Mercedes and Annette's families make them do. 

And Dedue...

Dimitri has absolutely no idea of what happened to Dedue. He doesn't know if he survived the attacks, after his capture. And if he did... he has no home to go back to. No one remaining of his family. Dimitri doesn't know what happened of him, even though they were together during the last fight. Even though he fought so hard by his sides, when they came for him. 

Dedue stood up as his protector until the end, Dimitri thinks, his heart throbbing. When the Empire soldiers arrived. When their intention of capturing the crown prince was made clear. When they arrived by dozens, against only the two of them. Dedue threw every thing he had to defend him. Defend his charge. He grasped his axe more firmly than he had ever seen him do. Whatever the blows that he received, he did not yield. There was no disarming him. There was no passing by his defense. He threw his axe, slicing flesh and bones with no interruption, the enemy's flow never stopping. There was always more and more soldier to be fallen by his axe. More and more blood to be spilled. More and more death to be given. He appeared as a feral beast, defending him. They both did. They gave all they had, fighting desperately for their lives. Fighting for his life. But they were only two teenagers, cornered by the Empire army. 

Dimitri and Dedue were separated. He shivers again, remembering too clearly the events that unfold this day. There were too many foes. He was hit, during a moment of weakness. For one single moment of weakness, he lost sight of him. They separated them and when he tried to call for his friend, his cry was lost in the sound of the battle. He lost sight of him and he has no idea if... If he even survived...

It has no for of importance whatsoever now. He will die, executed in his own kingdom like a filthy traitor. He will die and their promise will be forgotten. He will not be able to try to fix his kingdom. Duscur will forever be seen as the land that birthed the regicides. Faerghus will disappear under the Adrestian Empire. And, at last, he will not hear the quiet whispers anymore. 

Dimitri only... He only can wish, with all of his heart, that the goddess gave him her blessing for only one short moment. Even if it makes no logical sense, even if he has to go against all forms of logic he has in his entire being. He prays that Dedue is somewhere safe. That one of the former Blue Lions took him with them, and shelters him in their home. Maybe he will be executed, but Dedue will find something else to do. He prays that he will live on without him. 

Somehow, his dreams are all shattered, and yet become within his reach at the same time. 

It happens during a day like the others, or maybe it was during the night. He is incapable of saying since there is no windows in the prisons. He hears a clunk, a violent gasp, then a thud as if someone fell on the ground. Someone hits the bars of their cells excitedly, in a cell near the door. And then, there is a voice, filling the entire prison.

“Your Highness?” 

For a moment Dimitri thinks he is hallucinating. Are the voices becoming more than whispers? Why his voice of all? He shakes his head, as if to clear the hallucination that is taking its roots in his mind, but he can't do much more, his hands still held to the wall in his back. The voice tries again, this time accompanied by the sound of footsteps. 

“Your Highness, are you here?”

His voice is low, but it is his, with no doubts. Dimitri could recognize Dedue's voice anywhere, even spoken so low, as if he didn't want to be heard by mischievous ears, even if the last time he heard it, is was screaming on the battleground. But even if the voice is his, he can't trust his mind. Not when he's been locked up here for... so long. Thinking about him, safe, somewhere, far from the fights. 

He would like to get closer to the bars of his cell, to check. Just to check on the corridor. Make sure it is not him. Quiet down his delusional impossible hopes. He can't trust that Dedue would come here. But he is still restricted by these iron chains fixed into the stone wall at the back of his cell. He can't get himself away from it. He can merely distance his back a few inches. He still tries. He tries but the chains hold him back, pulling on his shoulders and his mutilated wrists. A grunt makes his way out of his throat. 

“Your Highness!”

The voice is much closer this time. Much, much closer. And with it, Dedue's face appears in front of his cell, behind the bars. His expression one of relief. Before it quickly turns to one of concern when he sees the extend of his prince's state. 

Dimitri cannot trust his eyes, when he is allowed to see him. “D-Dedue? Is that really you?”

“Yes, I am finally here.” Dedue replies.

Only then Dimitri begins to think that he is not just an illusion. Only then.. Then he can feel glad. And he sighs, smiling. Dedue is here. Dedue is alive. And before him. He feels suddenly hopeful again. Dedue comes to him, saving him all over again. 

Dedue pulls out the key he probably took on the guard, and open the door of his cell. He is wearing an armor of Firdiad's army, to be less noticeable amongst all the soldiers. Dimitri supposes it is more appropriate to have an armor to break his prince out of prison than his Academy's uniform. He briefly wonders how he managed to find an armor adapted to his very large body when he steps in front of him, so tall. 

His dearest friend is frowning. There is a tiredness in his traits, and Dimitri wonders how much energy he used to come all the way to these prisons. How many fights he already had to fight, all on his own. But he says nothing. In the state he's in, he cannot comment on one's tiredness. He must look pathetic, exhausted by his so long days of captivity. 

Suddenly Dedue reaches for his weapon and raises it over his head, and for a crazy moment, Dimitri thinks he might finally put an end to his misery. But the blade crashes against the wall above his head, breaking the chains holding him. He puts his axe away in his back and kneels down to his Highness, carefully checking his body in search of injuries. 

“We have to be quick.” Dedue finally says, breaking the silence. “Can you walk?” 

Dimitri can only nods weakly, even though he cannot know for sure. He has been held unmoving for so long. He doesn't know if his legs won't give up under his weight the moment he would stand up. Dedue helps him. He grabs his body, under his armpits, and pulls him up without waiting. He lands on his feet, struggling to gain his balance for a moment. Dedue's hands leave him only when they are both certain that he won't fall under his legs still asleep. This kind of gesture, that the vassal would have never done before, tell Dimitri just how little time they must have. 

He understands it even more when he hears shouting coming from close to their position. He still feels impressed, a little more than he feels the nervousness of the fight coming back to him. That his friend is still alive, even though he can see a new scar on his forehead. One he probably got loosing the fight at Garreg Mach. He feels impressed that Dedue would have succeeded to infiltrate so far into enemy territory, even though he seems already well tired, bruises appearing on his face. The face he turns toward him, full of worry as he reaches in his back for his axe. 

“I'm sorry to ask this of you, considering you condition, but... Do you think you could run?” 

Run, yes, suddenly he understands. There are very low chances that they could get out of this unscathed. He has no ideas how Dedue managed to come all the way to his cell. Impersonating a guard, he tells himself. But now they can't do that. Because his face is too well known. They will have to fight their way out. The two of them against an army. He feels thrown back to the beginning of the war at the Academy. 

Then, the outcome was not in their favor. Then, they lost. They will have to try to change that, this time. By running. They are not trying to fight off the Empire's forces. They are only running away. 

Yes, they can do it, Dimitri finally convinces himself. Except that... he clenches his fists onto nothing. “Yes, I will run. But I need a weapon to fight.” 

“We will need to think about that later.” Dedue replies the moment steps echo aloud in the prisons. He runs out of the cell the moment the guards arrive. With a strike of his axe, the nearest enemy is neutralized. 

Watching Dedue fight off their enemies, Dimitri wonders how could he possibly think about getting a weapon to fight only later. It is now that he needs to fight. For his life, for the life of both of them. To get them out of here. He cannot allow himself to be a burden to Dedue. So that he would have to preoccupy himself with his safety more than his own. But when his protector is done with the enemies, he realizes that it has always been the case. This is what he has always done. 

Still. The prince has skills. He intends on using them. He finally manages to get his legs to obey him, and carry him out of his cell. Or rather, an empty cell now. With only proof of his stay the broken chains hanging from the wall. He looks amongst the bodies of the defeated enemies for a weapon to get for himself. But he sees only bow and axes. Not one of his predilection weapons. But he will have to do with until he finds something that suits him better. He cannot afford be picky. He only has the time to bend down to pick an axe before Dedue urges him to turn away. It feels so heavy, so foreign in his grip. The weight pulling on his wrists and hurting him. But he ignores it. It's better than nothing. 

Then, they run. His legs take some time before reacting how he needs them to. But soon, they get caught in the impetus of the movement. It is awkward for him to hold an axe, it feels not natural in his hands, as it seems to be in Dedue's. But he clings on to it, giving him the idea that he is doing something to escape. Giving him the idea that it is not his friend taking on himself all the fights. And leading his escape. 

It has always been this way, even during the days at the academy. Dedue lead the way, able to resist any enemy's attack. And the Blue Lions, taking advantage of his protection, took care of the enemies remaining. But now Dimitri doesn't even have the occasion to attack. He feels clumsy with this weight in his hands. 

Dedue opens the path for them both, out of the castle. Dimitri can hardly believe it. He thought it impossible to escape. But it seems that his dearest friend's resolve cannot be stopped. The enemies before them are no match to their run. But the remaining problem, is the ones that are chasing them. The warrior is extremely well resistant and strong. But his armor prevents him from being too fast. Dimitri knows that he would be quicker if he was running alone. Even in his state. But the idea of leaving his most precious friend because he slows him down never crosses his mind. It would be a mindless thought. Especially considering that from the moment they left his cell, he is the one taking care of the enemies. 

But suddenly, he feels something in the air, and the atmosphere seems to shift around them. He understand just in time what it means, and manages to step aside to avoid the crash of the spell. But his armored companion doesn't. The spell hits him, and even if he doesn't scream from the pain, he grunts, and Dimitri knows it is a huge indication of his pain. 

“Dedue!” He cries for him. 

When the spell dissipates and he is allowed to see his friend again, his entire armor is damaged, his face bruised and blood is running down his nose. He is breathing hard, but still standing. 

Magic, Dimitri curses internally. It has always been his dear friend's weakness. He can withhold any blow of a sword or an axe, any arrow, but a spell... He doesn't let himself think about it longer. He feels it deep in his bones again, another spell is being cast. But he won't allow it, not this time. He grasps the axe in his hands as hard as possible and charges the spell caster with her hands extended in front of her. The sudden attack redirects her attention and the spell crashes on him. He is more agile than to be touched by such a clumsy attempt. He dives on the ground to avoid the blade made of wind blast in his direction. 

When he jumps back on his feet he is in front of her, and strikes with the axe, once. The weight of it, the shape, still feels foreign in his fists. It is not enough to kill her instantly but he strikes, again, and again, until the blade is covered in red. Until he is made certain that she will be no longer able to cast any spell. But when his deed is done, he raises his eyes to the horde of enemies coming on to him. All the ones they were running from. Catching up to him because he turned around. An arrow pierces the air to cut his shoulder. The violent pain makes his body shake with shock and his hands open around his weapon, letting it fall on the ground. 

“Your Highness!” Dedue calls him, suddenly at his sides. He grabs his arm and pulls him back, behind him, facing the enemies and threatening them with the cut of his axe. “I must insist. We need to run. We cannot fight them all off.” 

“O-Of course, I...” Dimitri nods weakly, cursing himself for doing something so reckless. “I'm sorry. You came so far just to rescue me and I... You got hit by this spell...” 

“It is nothing.” Dedue assures him, pushing and urging him to run again. 

If Dimitri can see that he is lying, he doesn't call it out. They don't need it right now. They need to run. So they do, they try to distance themselves from the troupes after them, trying to dodge the arrows and spells directed at them. But Dimitri can only see how slower they are from before. How Dedue's steps are heavier. His breath difficult beside him. It rings so loud in the prince's ears, despite all the noise around. Despite the clatter of his armor, despite the sound of the running steps in their back, despite the shouting ordering to get them, capture them, kill them. 

But they are so close. Dimitri feels his heart beating hard in his chest. His throat raw of all the running. His muscles burn him. But they are so close from the city's limits. Maybe there are more troupes behind the high walls. But for the time being, he concentrates on the closing in of the limits of the capital. Soon, they will be safe. Just a little more. He has to concentrate on his running and not on the sound of the enemy closing in. 

Suddenly Dedue isn't by his sides anymore. Dimitri stops abruptly and turns around to see him standing only a few steps behind. The only thing that crosses his mind then is that is it finally it. He can't run anymore, or he has been touched by some other spell. But his companion is only staring at him with resolve in his eyes.“Dedue!”

“Your Highness, I...” He takes a deep breath, with difficulties. Dimitri tries not to think too much about that. “They are too close. I will stall some time for your escape.” 

“No...” Dimitri murmurs, wondering if an arrow stabbed his heart. It feels like it. He cannot imagine escaping without him. No, he refuses. He shakes his head, walking to him. “No you won't.” 

“Please, your Highness. You have to survive...” Dedue tells him, his voice just a little weaker than before. 

“So do you! No, I won't leave. Not without you!” 

“Please... You know we cannot both survive.” 

Dimitri stops. The words are too true. He wonders if Dedue knew it along. That he knew, coming here, to save his life and his life only. That his running beside him was only to humor him. He also wonders if the blurriness of his eyes is caused by his dizziness of the violent physical effort he suddenly asked to his body, or the too great pain of having to think that maybe, maybe today would be the last day Dedue would be standing by his sides. 

"No... No Dedue please. I beg of you my friend" 

He reaches out, to him, clings on to his armor to anchor him to him. Make him stay with him. But his friend is unyielding, as ever. So characteristic of him, yet this time he hasn't the mind to think about it. He only feel too much. He distantly wonders why. He has already lost so much. What could possibly just another life lost because of him. It was the way of war. But then he thinks that it is not right. This is no way to think. Especially when the man willing to throw his life away for him is... Dedue is the one saving him times and times again. He needs him. It hurts. So much. Only having to think about it. He cannot accept it. 

"I want you to stay with me." He chokes, as if he needed to rip the words out of his throat. Oh, goddess, why does it hurt so much. 

"Your Highness..." There is something breaking in Dedue's eyes, and he looks so soft and vulnerable for a moment, Dimitri thinks he may have succeeded. Dedue will stay. 

But suddenly an arrow get stuck in the ground right before them, reminding them of their situation.

"I'm sorry" Dedue says, gently taking his Prince's hand off him. Before he grasps his axe with more intent and suddenly, he is turning around to charge at the enemy troupes on their heels.

"No... No Dedue!" Dimitri watches him completely annihilate the archer with one swing of his axe before continuing charging into the warriors, taking every blow as if they were nothing but a breeze. Dimitri feels something cold infiltrate his veins. And suddenly he violently understand what it means. Why it hurt so much to ask him to stay. Why it hurt worst that, for the first time, Dedue doesn't listen to him. 

But then he sees it. A flicker of robes, at the corner of the street. Magic energy fill the air. He feels terror take hold of him, and looks frantically around to find something. Anything. Any weapon to be of assistance to his friend. His precious friend his cherished friend. Oh, but he cannot only bear the thought of having to loose him, too.

Dedue grunts when a blade hits his face, slicing his cheek. This is nothing. Even as the wound burns his skin and the blood starts running down. Even as if stance falters and he steps back. His wounds are nothing. But it makes him take a step back, and he sees him. His prince. Still here. Still here and watching him as if he was watching his world burn. Dedue allows himself to think, during a brief moment, that maybe he can understand why he has to do this. Why he could not bear the idea of his execution.

"Your Highness! You need to leave, immediately."

Their eyes meet, and his Prince's blue gaze is wide, and terrified. More than when he was in his cell. But, he takes a trembling step back, even if he is shaking his head. "I don't-"

A swordsman manages to escape his defense, and slips next to him to reach for his charge. Dedue has to change his posture to hit him in the back, but not enough to kill him instantly. He reaches in his back to take a hatchet and throw it at him, this time ending his life. 

Turned toward his Highness, he takes a last moment to see him. And then, he does not falter. He has always known. He would gladly cast his life away, would his Highness need it. And today is the day he will die for his salvation. He feels no fear, even as he is struck for behind. He locks his eyes with his Highness's for the last time. "Go. Allow me to take care of this."

Dimitri takes another step back, for a second shaken by the strength in his retainer's voice. He had never heard him talk to him with such orders in his voice. He had never seen so much confidence in his gaze. So much strength of will in this man already bleeding. He watches him turn around and adjust his stance in a defensive way, his axe in front of him. 

Dimitri turns away the moment he sees the magic glow in an enchantress's hands with the spell Meteora. It wouldn't have mattered anyways, he thinks, with his vision full of tears. He doesn't see the spell land on his friend. But he hears. He hears and with no will over his own voice, he screams at the same time as Dedue. He screams as his legs cowardly carry him away. 

He screams and let the tears fall as he leaves his most precious friend to his death.


	2. Chasing Darkness

The darkness returns, ever so stronger than ever. 

It is after Dedue's death that the voices become much clearer. 

Dimitri has escaped his prison only thanks to him. Thanks to his sacrifice. He thinks bitterly that his freedom against his life is not worth it. He had to run away, without him. He had to hide in a merchant's caravan to get out of Firdiad. Trying to calm down his uncontrollable sobbing. He did not succeed all the way to an occasion to slip out. Just outside the city, the merchant had noticed him. Thankfully he recognized him, took pity of him, and left him go. 

At first, Dimitri can't sleep. Because of just one voice. One scream. Repeating again in again in the dead of the night. Waking him up, startled and screaming back the name of his lost friend. But when his eyes get used to the blackness of the night, there is no one. Not anymore. He is gone. Dead forever. And Dimitri is left crying everything he has until there is no more tears in his eyes. 

Dimitri has lost all. His family, his kingdom, Dedue... And all he has left was that woman. The responsible for all this suffering. The true monster of this world. He swears to get her head, in their memories. That he will not have been saved in vain. He will repay their sacrifices with her head. 

The day he comes to this realization, the day he trades his cryings for his battle cries, the day he rips his armor from a corpse he just made, the voices become even louder. As if it is all they ever wanted from him. He apologizes aloud for taking so much time to understand. 

But now he has his path carved in front of him. Leading to that woman's throat. 

He begins his work of attacking any troupes that has the misfortune to cross his path. He knows he can't just keep on going this way. Attacking any troupes won't lead him to somehow kill that woman. It won't allow him to get into the Empire's capital. It won't allow him to get his revenge. But he manages to tell himself that any harm done to the Empire is worth it. They are the ones who took everything from him. 

At night, he still hears his cries. He still hears the sound of the spell Meteora crashing against the ground, and the last he heard of his cherished friend. It keeps him awake, but he doesn't cry anymore. It is a good thing to hear his last scream. At least now he can stay awake. At least now he can stay alert at any time. And if he has the misfortune to fall asleep, caught up by his mortal condition, he can still count on this haunting scream to wake him up. 

The voices always become louder, stronger. Sometimes they feels so real he has to turn around to make sure it's not someone whispering directly into his ear. Or someone hiding in his back. Each time, he sees no one. But the voices never stop to talk. 

“Dimitri, my boy... I could have been such a good mother to you, if she had never been there. You need to get rid of her.”

He knows that. They could have been a family, happy, but because of her...

“A true knight never forgets his purpose, your Highness. Mine was to defend your family. Yours is to kill her. You can not falter.”

He is never going to give up. He is never going to rest until he takes her life. Or someone takes his.

“Son, you cannot think of dying. Not when so many sacrificed their lives to save yours. You have a duty. You have to bring justice to everyone.” 

He will give them her head. 

“Your Highness...” 

This voice, his voice, it is the only one that makes him so weary of his surroundings. Each time. He is not used to hear Dedue's voice in the chorus of the dead. He is not used to his words. He never says anything, really. He only calls to him. And Dimitri answers the call, looking around for him, for someone he knows he will never hear or see again. But it is what it is. Only the voices of the people who died, haunting the surviving. 

“I will avenge your death.” He swears to no one. “Just wait.” 

But months pass by, and soon enough, years. He still hasn't killed her. She is still alive. And the voices in his head are more real. Now he sees them in his dreams. He remembers their faces when they appear in front of him, mutilated, bloodied. Reclaiming again and again. “It has been years. Where is her head?”

He tries harder, more brutally. He leaves a trail of corpses behind him. He stains his hands the color of blood for ever. He throws himself into more desperate fights, with more numerous enemies. Stronger enemies. But he is still alive. And that woman is still alive. 

Now the ghosts are impatient. As if they wanted that woman's throat to be cut more and more, they grow more and more tired of him. They grow more and more demanding of him. They grow harder, harsher. They attack him, with their words and their visions. “You should have died. I should have lived. I could have killed her by now.” 

His fears come to him in dreams. He sees his step-mother sewing by the window of her room. As she used to do when he was a young boy. Her gaze is fixated outside the window, a sad look on her face. But she whimpers and cries at each movement of her hands. And there is blood. So much blood, covering the floor, covering his own hands. When Dimitri gets closer, he sees that it's her own skin she is stitching back together, in an attempt to fix herself. 

Dimitri wakes up in a cold shiver. Not because of a scream. Because of his own dreams. It has been ages since he hasn't heard this scream, he notices. He doesn't even know why he begins to think about this right now. Maybe because he feels cold. So cold. 

For a brief moment, he wonders where are his former comrades. What happened of the Blue Lions. They are all probably dead. Just like Dedue. There is nothing left of these ancient times. It only seems now like a distant dream. Untouchable. They're all dead, just like him.

“Your Highness!”

Dimitri raises his eyes in a sharp move. Before him, he is standing. Tall, in his uniform academy, looking so young. He comes right from a bygone era, Dimitri thinks with a humorless smile. Why does he see him like this, now? Because he was thinking of the times lost forever? He wonders why would Dedue's ghost do such a thing. For what reasons. 

“Dimitri...” He says, with a much softer tone. 

His name. By his voice. The name he always stubbornly refused to say. A pity, that he had to die before he could finally make himself say it. A pity, that Dimitri had to wait for him to die before he could feel this emotion filling his heart, to the sound of his name in his mouth, reminding him of even much younger days. 

The ghost kneels before him, his gaze never leaving his eyes. Dimitri cannot hold it much longer. He turns his face away, watching with intent the tree surrounding him. He found a spot in a clearing in the woods. This is the place where he decided to establish his camp of fortune. Just the time to calm the loud complains of his stomach. He hadn't planned on falling asleep. He thought his dream about his step-mother had waken him. But since Dedue's ghost is still here... 

“Why are you here?” He asks, unable to stop himself. It is useless to try to talk to ghosts. But Dedue is here, with him, in these woods. For the first time the ghost is standing in front of him. For once it is not in a construction mimicking memories of his past. 

“I swore to you. That I would not ever leave your sides.”

“Liar.” Dimitri articulates with more difficulties that he'd like. “You did.”

“I must disagree, your Highness.” 

Dimitri turns to him, hating that string of hope in his heart trying to pull him up. 

“I am still right here...” Dedue explains, extending his hand in front of him to push it flat against Dimitri's heart. 

The prince's heart seems to shatter, but the only noise it makes is a laugh. A laugh escaping from his own lips. Pitiful. What was he expecting anyway? 

“Of course... I am not alive.” Dedue suddenly says, a venom in his words as he seems to realize the hopes he gave his former charge. A venom that cuts Dimitri's laughter. “I died back in Firdiad for your life. I died because of you. But you know this already.”

Dimitri only nods.

“Seeing what you make of your life now... I wonder if it was worth it.”

“Obviously it was not.” Dimitri snaps. “But you would do it all over again, would you not?”

“You are right, your Highness. I would prevent your death, again and again. Because I cannot accept your death. I cannot accept that you would be left free of this burden so soon.” 

There it is. Dimitri stares into his green eyes, even though he sees nothing here. He is dead. He is a ghost. He cannot see honesty. He cannot see resentment or hatred. But he feels his words as though they were his own. “You hate me. You died for me because you wanted to make me suffer.” 

“Did it work, your Highness?” Dedue asks, looking up at him expectantly. A glint in his dead eyes that he never saw when he was still alive. 

“Yes.” Dimitri croaks. “More than anything.”

It hurt the most. He had never stopped repeating it, again and again, even if his words seemed to be ignored at the time. Dedue was the one who saved him. That fateful day. The idea that he had succeeded to save at least one person. One Duscur boy. It had saved him. That was why he could not see him as his vassal only. He could not hear him say that he owed him. They saved each other. 

But now, it's all lost. Dedue is dead. His ghost is back to haunt him. To remind him that no one will be able to save him anymore. There is nothing else to save. 

"I see..." There is a smile of relief on Dedue's lips.

Despite his words, so harsh, so cruel, Dedue keeps his hand against his heart. Not to push or to hurt. The touch is but a soft breeze. In a position that reminds Dimitri of old times. Times where there seemed to be no worries other than the ones he had regarding his closest friend. Times they could spent alone, near the Goddess's Tower that night of the White Heron Ball. He feels thrown into those memories, powerless. Memories painful, now that they are gone. Memories that he had rather left buried forever. They are lost times. Times so far away. Times bygones forever.

"You hate me..." Dimitri states, feeling every fiber of his being telling him to be careful. But there is small, bitter, betrayed part of him telling him that it wouldn't matter. Dedue is dead anyway. "Yet you were always so dedicated to my comfort."

He waits for his words to hurt the ghost. For his own contradiction to make him recoil, go away, leave him alone. Or at least deny one of those things. Whichever would be fine. He does not expect him to stare into his eyes, directly into his soul, with a gaze as cold as he expected a ghost to have. But there is something else in his eyes. Something like resignation. Futile, Dimitri tells himself, stop trying to decipher a ghost's emotions. 

"I was. I would have done anything to please his Highness."

Dimitri's breath catches at the implication. "Anything..." 

Despite his own will, he reminisces their innocent days at the Academy. The moments they had the chance to have, when he thinks back on it. Because now he can only see them as a blessing. Maybe a blessing turned into a curse, now that he only has his memories to haunt him. But what would be just one more burden to bear. 

They were close, in those ancient times. But never close enough in his opinion. Never as close as he wished. Even if they had their moments. Moments too kind to remain in his haunted mind. He feels colder. From the freezing hand against his chest.

"Would you still?"

Dedue looks up to him, and only then he can see how close their faces are. How he can feel the cold breeze emanating from his ghost. The freezing breath as he speaks so close to him. "I will always."

Dimitri closes his eyes, shivering. Remembering this tender young man whose attention he stole from everything else. He is a selfish beast. Craving for contact. Sometimes the brief encounter he has with his enemies before he slits their throats open is enough. But when before his eyes is his savior... He catches himself craving for the attention of a ghost. 

He puts his hand on his, holding it in its place. Cruelly anchoring him to him. "You wouldn't have to fetch so far to... Find something that pleases me." He whispers into the empty night, opening his eyes to lock them into Dedue's.

Dedue watches him, and suddenly he brings his face closer. For a moment Dimitri imagine the press of their lips together. For a moment, he imagines what could have happened if his most cherished friend did not sacrificed his life for him. They could be together in this clearing. For a moment he imagines what would have been his reaction to his kiss, three years before, in a silent corner of the Monastery. Embarrassed and terribly excited. 

But he feels only a hand travels through his hair, so cold against his scalp. Why, he wonders. Why is he assaulted by those memories he doesn't deserve to hold dear. A day in the greenhouse, Dedue's soft fingers in his hair. He shivers once again. But not exclusively from the cold. The craving of a contact. From a desperate lonely beast.

Dedue's ghost holds his head there and brings their cheeks together to murmur into his hear. "Lay down your Highness. Let me take care of you." 

Dimitri knows too well that he shouldn't. Because this is Dedue's ghost. He will only get a taste of something he will never be allowed to have. This closeness, this rapprochement he craved during their young years. Even now. He longs for him yet he knows he cannot let the ghosts take a hold too strong on him. He longs for him but his words comforted him in what he always suspected. Dedue will always see him only has his prince, his Highness, from whom he can refuse nothing. Not a single service. 

Despite all, he lets him. He lays down and lets Dedue embrace him. Just this once, he tells himself. Just this once he can imagine that his dearest friend is really here, with him, and that is not just his ghost. Just this once, he would indulge in his selfish desires despite the last part of his humanity that remains telling him that it is wrong. 

Almost five years has passed since Dimitri has lost everything. So when he gets back so much, he rejects it. He wont let them get to him. He knows the pattern now. They are alive. The Blue Lions. Even the professor. They all survived. They are all back to hold a meaningless promise. They are all back to fight for him. But he knows what fate awaits for those who follow him with too much dedication. It only ends with death. 

Death is what he gives. To them, those foolish enough to stand in his way to that woman's throat. Those who were foolish enough to defend the great bridge of Myrddin with their lives. 

"Your Highness!" The voice calls in his back. 

The voice he knows too well. But that he wasn't used to hear in the middle of a battle. No... No no now is not the time... Dimitri doesn't look at him. He doesn't want to. He cannot. He doesn't have the strength to. He has to keep his head in the fight. He has to take back the great bridge of Myrddin. It is his way to that woman's throat. When he has her head, then maybe he will indulge in his own illusions. But he voice feels so real. The same he heard once in a prison made of darkness. 

"I am sorry I took so long." 

Around him, he sees the smiles of the people he once shared classes with. He can even see tears fill Ashe's green eyes. So, because he has to know, once and for all, and because he would never pass an opportunity to break his own heart, he turns around. 

He doesn't know what he was expecting. Nothing. Just the void before his eye. Of maybe his ghost again, as he ever used to appear in front of him. But not him. Not this man. This man that is Dedue, with no doubts. He recognized his voice-of course he recognized his voice. But he looks nothing like he usually appears to him. His hair has grown, is shaved on the sides, he isn't wearing the Academy's uniform. He has an armor, a scarf... So strange. Why would he appear before him this way? Why would this apparition of a specter make their old professor smile this way? 

Each member of their army of fortune seems to see Dedue too, and smile at him, so happy of his return. But his green eyes don't leave him, expectant... Dimitri had never seen such emotion in those eyes. Not for five years. Not in his ghost. He feels deranged by how his heart starts beating faster. How it seems to wake from a too long slumber. How he feels hope again.

“Dedue?” Still, he allows himself to hope, and to ask. 

He allows himself to believe. When Dedue nods. Dedue, not his ghost. Dedue real and alive and standing before him. 

But quickly the reunions are cut short by the enemy attacking again. 

The battle for the bridge is over. They won the battle with some difficulties, but no casualties. The difficulties being the reluctance of some of his former comrades to attack people they once shared classes with. Dimitri Doesn't care for killing old friends. Such is war. Those knights were blind to follow that woman's order. He cannot bring himself to care too much about others. If he lets himself care too much, he knows one day he will lose everything all over again. 

“Your Highness.” 

The fallen prince raises his eye to his face, Dedue's face. Older, with a complete new set of scar. If he is truly back, if this is truly him, scars he got because of him. But he wonder, with a complex mix of emotions twisting his guts, which scars does Dedue has that are not because of him. 

“Are you hurt?” Dedue asks, worried about his well-being. “I apologize for distracting you from your enemy earlier.”

Of course, he would be, Dimitri thinks bitterly. He died and only came back, but he is still too concerned about him. It seems too realistic. He shakes his head. “You came back... How did you came back from the dead?” 

“I was saved by my brothers. Men of Duscur.”

“No... I saw you. You were dead. You were a ghost. I saw you haunting me!”

Because the look Dedue gives him is too hard to bare, he lowers his head. Incapable of looking into his eyes. There is just too much sympathy, too much hurt for him. He cannot accept that he could think him worthy of his compassion. Not when... 

His words are still fresh in his memory. He hates him. He knows it. Dedue hates him and Faerghus. He told him himself. His ghost told him. Then why is he back? 

“Your Highness. I asked that you fulfill your long held desire, did I not? Allow me to once again act as your sword and shield. Please.” The uncertainty is clear in Dedue's voice when he asks this of his Highness. Dedue wonders if, after five long years during which he wasn't at his side, the words his prince said before he sacrificed his life are still true. He cannot be sure if he still wants him to stay. “Let me witness your triumph. I want to behold the moment your wish is finally granted..” 

“Dedue...”

Dimitri sees that Dedue is too considerate to comment on his madness. Too considerate to tell him that he was never a ghost. That he never haunted him. That he never did any of those things- That turns Dimitri's blood as cold as ice. Because if he did say it, if he made it clear that he was never dead, that he was never this haunting figure that gave him a much needed company on some lonely nights... Then what would it mean, about the other ghosts? About the promise he made to them? The promise he made to that man still standing by him? That man who, despite all the things he has done, despite all the things he has done to him without him even knowing, wants to be by his sides still. 

“Of course. And in exchange, I ask that you swear something to me. Here and now.”

“Anything, your Highness.”

Anything to please his Highness. His ghost's voice echoes. Dimitri shuts his eye close. No, never again would he take advantage of him. Never again would he cruelly anchor him to him. For his selfish desires.

“Do not ever throw your life away again. Understood?”

“Your Highness... Understood.”

Dimitri has no time alone since his return. Even in the Cathedral, where he could once find some solitude. Dedue follows him, as if they were back to those blissful times when his security was his duty. But he is not able to pretend, like him. There is too much guilt eating his heart. He tried to take everything from this man. His land, his family, his youth, his life... He is the monster that took every thing from him. How can he still want to be with him, again, always? 

These past five years, the apparitions of his ghost, had all been a creation of his sick mind. He can hardly believe anything his eye shows him now. How is he supposed to look at him? His friend, his closest friend, his most cherished friend, alive, older. Alive. 

How can he still want to be with him, again, always?

“Your Highness. The sun is setting. Perhaps it would be wise to-”

"Why are you still here!” Dimitri snaps. “You payed your debt, you owe me nothing!"

There is a sharp intake of air next to him. But Dimitri keeps his eyes fixated on the broken tiles of the Cathedral floor. He doesn't want to be the center of that man's attention. He doesn't want to turn him away from all the rest. He doesn't want him to keep on following him everywhere, no matter the price. He doesn't want him to follow him into his bestial madness. Never again would he cruelly anchor this man to him. He never thought he could feel that bad for the living. More than the dead.

Dedue doesn't reply to his Highness. He knows perfectly what is going inside his head, as he blames him of wasting his time. He knows he is only trying to shut the others out of his hurt. He knows that he must have blamed himself for his death, and that he would probably never forgive himself, would he die for him again. But Dedue knows, selfishly, that despite his promise, he would probably forget his own words if he saw his Highness in a difficult situation in a battle. 

The man that stands now before him has everything of a beast, yes. Incapable of understanding, craving for battle and for blood, too hurt to communicate with others. But he knows he has always been like this. His adolescent self managed to ignore it. But he knows deep down that he's always been this way. So hurt it turned him mad. 

True, though, maybe Dedue did fulfill his duty. Maybe he saved his Highness's life the way he saved his so long ago. And every instinct he has tell him to turn away and run as fast and far as possible, to protect himself, to protect them both. But in his soul he feels like this is not right. In front of him, it is the same man he swore to protect. Even if his debt is payed. He feels entitled to him. As if he had to help him. 

No... This is wrong, Dedue thinks. This is not it. Not exactly. It has been said again and again. They saved each other. They are equals, now, as they fight a war side by side and his prince has no more throne. He can no longer hide behind his duty. That it is not about what role he fulfills, it is about what he wants. What he always has wanted. He said it a few days before now, upon his return to his prince's side. He wishes to witness his triumph. It does not feel right, to tell himself that it is merely his duty. This is his desires he disguises as his duties, to makes them more acceptable. He wants to help him. He wants to help this man, Fodlan's only hope. He wants to see the future they promised each other. And for that he cannot, and will not leave him. 

"I... Want to stay by your sides." He admits truthfully. 

Dimitri looks at him, in shock. More disturbed by the sincerity displayed on his face than his words themselves. Then, a humorless smile slices his face in two. "Your head is not right." 

Dimitri knows that he doesn't deserves it. He doesn't deserves him, his services, his presence by his sides, his utter devotion. He is just a mad man. And if Dedue follows him anywhere, then inevitably he will follow him down madness. Despite all the things Dimitri has done to him. Despite every thing he took. Despite all the things he yet wants to take. How can he still want to be with him, again, always?

"Perhaps.” Dedue indulges him. “For five years, I have tried tirelessly to find my way back to you. But if my departure is truly what you wish for, then please, just order and I will be on my way."

Dimitri doesn't order. He scoffs, and turns around, his back to him. 

To Dedue, that is answer enough.


	3. Chasing Lost Time

Wind blows in Dimitri's face, despite the thick walls surrounding the Kingdom capital. He closes his eye a second, taking the time to appreciate the feeling. He never minded the cold bite of the northern wind. Rather, he always found it refreshing. Especially now that he can fully appreciate it, surrounded by his friends, in the city of Firdhiad they just won back. 

They had taken back Firdhiad. They had taken back Faerghus. He learned to finally accept extended hands from people who care about him.

Though not for every occasions. He politely declines the invitation to dance from one of the knight of their army. He can not miss the disappointment on her face, but she goes back into the crowd to dance anyways, so he figures it must not be heartbreaking for her. He is much more comfortable here, leaning against the stone railing of the royal palace's patio, watching as everyone is enjoying the celebration of their victory. 

It was a common idea, this party. Something that must have been in every one's head for a moment, during their travel to Firdhiad. After their victory, they would celebrate the living, the dead, the kingdom. Still, he did not expect something so grand and joyful. There is a big number of table set with many dishes. And even a band, constituted of musicians living in the city who proposed to animate their party, as a proof of their gratitude for taking back their city. As a way of showing their respect to their future king. The crowd of dancing people in the middle of the patio is large, and Dimitri suspects that it is not exclusively constituted of members of their army. But it does not matter. Every one is allowed to celebrate the liberation of the kingdom capital. The atmosphere is so joyful and carefree, he could believe for a moment that the war is over. 

Despite every thing, Dimitri is still troubled by all the events that unfold during the battle. Especially the revelations made by Cornelia before he plunged his lance through her chest, ending her life for good. He still has difficulties, with how she ended up. Five years ago, before it all stated, he considered her a hero. She saved his kingdom of a terrible plague. Even though he had always been a little bitter that she hadn't arrived in time to save his mother's life. She had had given Faerghus a great service. 

But then, she became a traitor, sold Faerghus to the Empire, ordered his execution... No, he can not feel bad for taking her life. She was an enemy. All she wanted was his demise. Her last words, as she faced him, could not be trusted. What she pretended to know about the tragedy that took so many lives in Duscur... He could not believe her words. 

Still, knowing he should enjoy himself, he can not wave the thoughts away for too long. They are always here, in a corner of his mind. As a number of other worries. Maybe it shows on his face, maybe his brooding is too obvious, because he notices movement in the crowd. When he looks up, he sees Sylvain walking to him with a determined expression.

“Dimitri, you can't stand in a corner all night. You have to come and dance with us.” He insists.

Sylvain's words bring back Dimitri's attention from his dark thoughts to the people dancing. Near the band playing, the majority of his friends try to follow Petra's lead. She shows them Bridgid dance. He remembers she had said that it was more energetic than Fodlan's dance, but he hadn't expected that. It is... chaotic, in his opinion. But not in a bad way. Everyone is smiling and laughing, and that is good enough for him. He spots Annette and Ashe dancing with energy next to Petra, laughing loudly with her. He is really glad that their professor managed to enroll the Bridgid princess in their class. As Dorothea. As others students from the Black Eagles and Golden Dears. 

Though maybe Dorothea's change of class was maybe not exclusively motivated by her want to learn from professor Byleth. But if those students hadn't changed house... he can't imagine having to fight against them. As they had to fight and kill Ferdinand and Lorentz, back on the great Bridge of Myrddin. He thinks... he's lucky he didn't get to know them too well. He can't imagine the pain Ingrid would have been in, would they have had to fight against the ex opera star. 

But he tries as hard as he can not to think about the fights left to win. Other old classmates they may have to defeat. This is not the place or time. They had a great victory. It is time for celebration. 

“You don't want to dance?” Sylvain brings him back to the party. “Because some are having a lot of fun.”

His gaze is hinting toward Ingrid and Dorothea, dancing without taking their eyes off the other with looks of adoration and pure joy. Dimitri feels his heart warm at the sight of the scene so sweet, and manages to forget his worries for an instant. He is truly thankful that Dorothea decided to follow them. 

“I'm happy only seeing you happy, really.” He smiles at his old friend, who opens his mouth before closing it, his gaze falling on someone else.

“Never mind then, I suppose you can rest a little bit. But I will not be so merciful with him...” He says as he strolls away, to a reclusive Felix who sighs when he spots Sylvain walking to him with determination. 

Dimitri can only watch with a smile as Sylvain gives Felix no chance to say no and drags him in the middle of the dancing crowd. When Annette and Ashe sees him, they encourage him with joy and start dancing with him. How could Felix just leave them? 

Then, Mercedes makes her way to them and dance with them, soon joined too by Ingrid and Dorothea. Dimitri is more surprised to notice their old professor joining them. It is a heart warming sight. But he fears, with almost the entirety of the blue lions dancing together, that he would have no excuses to refuse if he was invited once again. That is when he notices that Dedue is not dancing with them. He looks around, scanning the patio for him, but does not see him. He wonders for a minute where his friend could be. 

As if it were a reflex, his legs start moving to take him away from the party. Dimitri walks in the palace, looking for Dedue. He crosses the kitchen, were some people of the staff are still working to cook more food. He glances inside, but Dedue isn't here either. He wonders how he could have missed him, someone so tall, that he usually notices easily. He wonders if his friend dislikes celebrations so much, that he could not even stay for such an important event. It feels strange to celebrate a victory in which he had such an important role without him. 

Dimitri wonders into the gardens, from where he can still hear clearly the music from the party on the patio. The great gardens of the royal palace. He remembers them always being beautiful, full of colors and green grass, under the careful watch of their gardeners, working to protect the plants from the cold. But what he sees is different from his childhood memories. There are only a few colored flowers, and he can see that they are not plants but parasites. He walks in the paved alley before he notices a figure standing before a patch of dried grass. 

Dedue is in the gardens, of course. Dimitri thinks he should not be surprised to find him here. He watches him for a moment, from afar, not making his presence known. What a great sight to witness, too. Dedue, here, with him. Alive. By his sides. 

He still hardly believes it. That Dedue might want to stay by his sides. After the beast he had become. After every thing that happened with... He shakes his head. He knows, he knows it wasn't real. None of what happened during those five years was real. The ghosts were only a creation of his sick mind. And yet... He remembers. He still has the memories, the images engraved in his memory. The words still echoing in his head. 

Dimitri tries not to think about that. He lets his gaze drift from Dedue to the garden. To have other thoughts. More happy ones. The first that comes to his mind, in this garden, is how it would be even more magnificent, with Dedue's care. If he stayed by his sides until the end, he would live in the castle. He would live close to those gardens. He could take care of them the way he took care of the greenhouse, back at the academy. He thinks it would make him happy. It would make Dimitri happy, too. To be able to see once again the peaceful look Dedue has when he takes care of his flowers. All he wants in this instant, is to see their future together in the capital. 

“Your Highness. I didn't see you coming.”

Dimitri flinches. He is busted. “Ah, yes, I... I did not want to bother you.” He says, closing the distance between them so they would be at a talking distance. He isn't sure how to justify the fact that he was just... standing there, watching him without saying anything. 

“Your presence is never a bother.”

Thankfully, Dedue doesn't ask. There is a silence, though. Extending as he wonders if maybe, it wouldn't have been better if he asked. The silence let them hear the music playing further away, but even with the sound of the party, the air between them feels empty. Dimitri wonders why. It never felt like that before. 

“You left the celebration.” Dimitri tries to fill it. “You did not like it?”

“It is not that I did not enjoy it. But I wanted to come here.” Dedue explains.

“I see...” 

Silence falls between the two of them once again. Stays for a few second, stretches again. Uncomfortable. It is strange. Silence has always been easy between the two of them. But Dimitri supposes... It was before, a long time ago. Before he became a heartless monster and tried to reject Dedue when all he wanted was to be his protector one again. That was before he showed his true, cruel face. The face Felix had always warned them about. 

But now... Now Dimitri fears- no, he knows, he has ruined things. So many things. In a way where they could never be the same again. Dedue... is one of them. Because of what he thinks, of what he feels. Of what he felt when he was so alone. Of what his mind made Dedue's ghost say. It was wrong and yet he left it happen. Now he cannot just ignore it. When he looks at his dearest friend, he feels only guilt. 

“You spoke of a ghost.” Dedue suddenly says, his words too close to Dimitri's thought to not make him flinch. “Of me, to be more precise. You said you saw me, that I haunted you. Did... he say or do anything that might have harmed you, your Highness?”

Dedue knows him too well, Dimitri thinks. He probably figured that this silence between them was caused by something only him knew. He should have known that even if Dedue didn't ask the first time Dimitri spoke of such strange things as ghost, he would only store it in a corner of his mind, and not forget it. He got it perfectly right. The cause of this silence. Dimitri wonders sometimes if he even knows about the feelings he has for him. How he wants them to be more than just a prince and his vassal, yes, this he had said it quite openly. But also, more than friends. He is left unsure as to what to reply to his friend's question. 

“It was not you. I know this now.”

“My question stays the same.” Dedue insists.

Dimitri raises his eye to meet his. Dedue seems concerned, and determined to get an answer. He did not know it would worry his friend so much. Tales of a ghost. No... Tales of his own mind. Maybe it is why he has so many difficulties to tell him. It would be a direct window into his mind. But after a moment, Dedue lowers his gaze. 

“If you do not wish to talk about it, I understand.” Dedue concedes, turning around to look once more at the waste of a garden. 

Dimitri wonders if it is truly the case. Does he not want to speak of it, or is he just afraid of what it would mean? If Dedue knew. If his most cherished friend knew what his mind made of him, how would he react? But he knows what he fears most, is the lack of reaction. What if Dedue accepted everything he threw at him only for his sake? What is he kept for himself what he really thought, because he could think that it is not appropriate to be frank to his prince? Though, in this occasion, it is Dimitri who doesn't speak. When Dedue asked him to. 

Dedue already knew him too well. And even though he saw what he had become after five year of dementia, he still chose to stand by his sides. He said he wanted it. Would he still want, if he told him everything? But Dimitri thinks that he doesn't have to tell him everything. Only pieces of the truth. Maybe he would be able to tell him the whole truth one day. Or maybe Dedue would piece it all together on his own. He could still... try. See if it would be enough to ease this discomfort between the two of them. Too many things unsaid. 

Dimitri takes a step forward, standing next to Dedue. “Yo- He said he hated me.”

Dedue turns his face to him, but doesn't say a word. Dimitri looks at him, but he sees in his eyes something akin to... disappointment. Goddess, saying it aloud makes it sound ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous and impossible. And the slip he had. He almost said you instead of he. Dedue noticed it, he must have. Dimitri shakes his head, trying to dismiss it. “That is not-”

“I do not.” Dedue interrupts him, finally replying. “I hated your kingdom, for a long time. But you, your Highness, I could never hate you.”

Dimitri breathes out. He knew it. He knew it and yet, hearing it from his mouth makes it so much different.

“I hope my words are enough to reassure you.” Dimitri can only nod weakly. “Was there... something else?”

Dimitri does not scoff. There too much. So much more to say. But strangely... he does not feel as scared as he was before. As if Dedue's words were enough to wipe away his fears. At least, the ones he had regarding his true feelings. He can believe him, when he says he doesn't hate him. Because of the sincerity shining in his eyes. He wants to see it again, when he dismisses all his other irrational thoughts. 

“He...” Dimitri begins, but understands that things are already clear in Dedue's eyes. It is useless to pretend it had nothing to do with him. “You said that... you would throw you life away, again and again. You would gladly leave me in this world, bearing this burden alone.”

The words escape him before he can think more about it. He stops, looking up to his friend. He watches as his expression changes. He doesn't have to try too hard to read his emotion. Worry, and guilt. Dimitri doesn't think he has ever seen him more concerned and confused before.

“Your Highness, I...” 

Dimitri sees his hands move, to him, as if he wanted to touch him and hold him. He doesn't dislikes the idea. He even thinks that is he held him, he could only see that none of this was real. That it was all a lie. If he could see how different his embrace was from the ghost's embrace. But Dedue refrains, and bring his hands back to his sides. 

“I apologize. If that is the impression I gave you. That was never my intention. I did not want to leave you. All I wanted... I needed you to survive.”

“I know.” Dimitri nods, trying not to feel too disappointed that Dedue did not do what he wanted to. “And you succeeded. You broke me out of Firdhiad's prison. A great feat.” 

“I really wish I did not have to leave you.” Dedue admits, letting the regrets cloak his voice. 

“At least... you have returned.” Dimitri says, feeling the words warming his heart a little bit. Yes, Dedue had returned, and had wanted to stand by his sides. “That is more than I ever dared to hope, during those years.” The years during which he was contempt with a ghost. How he was lost, at the time. How he was lost, without him. And upon his return... He remembers, with horror, how he treated him upon his return. Violent, pushing him away, never acknowledging all the things he did for him. “I never even thanked you.”

Dedue looks at him, surprised. “There is no need.”

“No, there is.” Dimitri insists. “You are too good to me, Dedue. I never showed you my gratitude, for staying by my sides. You deserve some sort of reward.” 

Dimitri feels suddenly enthusiast, at the idea. As if finding a reward worthy of Dedue's help through the years was a goal he had to achieve. Not because of high stakes, but because he wanted it. He should find a way to make it up to Dedue, instead of feeding those wrong thoughts. 

“Your Highness...” Dedue shakes his head, as if to reprimand him, but Dimitri can perfectly see the small smile on his lips. And it is enough to motivate him further. 

That is when he hears it. The music, coming from the patio. He remembers, from such a long time ago. When he proposed to teach Dedue how to dance. They never got to it. They never had the time, too many things happened to rapidly to find the time. But now, it may be the moment to make up for lost time. 

As if carried by his enthusiasm, forgetting any kind of boundaries, Dimitri reaches out and takes Dedue's hand in his. 

Dedue looks at him, curious, and maybe a little bit embarrassed, but apart from that Dimitri sees no sign of disapprobation. No sign of restrain or discomfort. If he is afraid Dedue wouldn't always tell him every thing that is on his mind, he thinks he can trust what he sees in his eyes. He feels disappointed for a second. Their hands are still fully gloved in their armor. But he thinks that it is still something. To hold Dedue's hand so boldly. 

“How about... Those dancing lessons. We never had the occasion.” Dimitri proposes, managing to keep his voice calm, he doesn't understand how. It feels as if his heart was hammering against his chest, maybe because of the fear of Dedue refusing, of thinking him strange for thinking about one discussion they had about dancing lessons, during a war. Years after they last spoke about it. 

“I would like this.” Dedue finally answers, turning his body fully to his prince. Dimitri thinks he can see a smile, on the corner of his lips. He feels himself smile too. 

Facing him, Dedue thinks for a moment. He listens to the music from far away and tries to remember steps he saw his prince do when he was dancing with other people. When he feels his hand being pulled, to bring them closer. He remembers then what he has to do, and puts his hand on his highness's hip. 

Dimitri tries not to think anything of it. Though he finds it difficult to contain his own thoughts. How many times did he imagine his dearest friend holding him this way, with no hesitation, the same way he just did? He puts his own hand on Dedue's chest, as he did only on one other occasion, so many years ago. But he misses something immediately. The warmth of his skin. The pulse under his fingers. He supposes he should have known that he would not have what he really wanted, still dressed in their armors. He can even hardly feel Dedue's hand on his hip and in his own hand. 

But despite the moment being finally here, they don't move. They can only look at each other with a sort of wonder, trying to think of something. Before Dimitri remembers. “Right... I never showed you. Maybe we should switch roles, if only for our first dance.” 

It felt meaningful, saying it out loud. Only for the first dance. It meant there would be others. Many others, hopefully. If they won the war, if they both survived. It is a lot of conditions, but in this instant Dimitri feels like it is achievable. He feels determined to make sure it happens. 

Dedue moves his hand, from his waist to his shoulder, mimicking the position he has. The one he has to change, to put his hand on his dearest friend's waist. In position, Dimitri tries to listen to the music, understand the rhythm and move with it.

“Follow my lead.” Dimitri says before moving his right foot. His hand on Dedue pulls him with him in his movement, when he turns his body slightly. After a few more steps, they both follow the music and dance together. It feels easy to Dimitri. He thought their armor would get in the way and make their movement weird and late regarding of the music. But they manage, together. Dedue follows his steps with such ease, as if it was something he had done all his life. Dimitri suddenly doesn't like where his thoughts take him. 

Instead Dimitri thinks about their dance, how moving with Dedue feels so easy and natural. He feels his heart, his rapid rhythm in his chest, much quicker than the one of the song he tries to follow, and how lighter it feels now that he knows. He knows they will see this war through and have many more dances. A feeling that makes him smile. And when he raises his eyes to Dedue's face, he sees a smile there, too.

The music ends. They stop moving with the last sounds of the instruments but they do not separate. None of them tries to make a move to do so. Until another music begins to play in the distance. Dimitri takes a step back, but doesn't pull Dedue with him. He lets his hands leave him.

“I'm sorry. I am not sure it was a really good lesson.” Dimitri admits. They only danced. He did not show him anything. He did not show him the steps he was making or how to guide his partner. He realizes that it was not really a lesson. Only a dance.

“That is alright.” Dedue tells him, still smiling. 

Dimitri thinks that he knows if this is his reaction. He knows that it wasn't to teach. Only to humor him. Maybe humor them both, with any luck. 

Once again, they are just standing here together. At least, now, the silence is comfortable. Dimitri allows himself to breath, looking at the garden. Even though the plants have been abandoned, some of them seem to persist. He called them parasites, before. But now that he watches as they color the gardens of their bright colors, he thinks he was too harsh. But maybe... Maybe his vision is influenced by the place where he stands. Only a few minutes ago he was dancing with Dedue. 

“The gardens are beautiful... despite the damage of the war raging.” Dimitri admits. 

“I agree... Though I remember a time, before we left for the academy, when they were much more full of color. More full of flowers.”

Dimitri nods, saddened by his words. True, in time of war, most of the plants that are taken care of are the fruits or vegetables. Understandingly. It would be a bad decision to waste time on something that could not feed an army. But he doesn't appreciate the way it affects Dedue's voice. 

“The flowers I had planted...”

Dimitri suddenly understands where Dedue's sadness is coming from, when he looks at this garden. He remembers times, in their young years, when Dedue tended to flowers he had managed to save from Duscur. “I'm... sorry.”

Dedue shakes his head. “It couldn't be any other ways. I could not take care of them and no one else here knew how to...”

“Well... There are the ones you brought to Garreg Mach. Could you bring them here? You will have all the time to take care of them here after the war.”

Dedue fully turns to him, a small smile on his lips. “After the war... My first priority will be to take care of you, not flowers.”

Dimitri's heart flutters at those words. If only they could mean more. If only they could mean the same thing in his eyes. “Still, I will make sure that you have some time to yourself, to garden.”

“That is a nice thought.” Dedue says, letting his gaze drift upon the flowers before them.

At those words, Dimitri understands that maybe he doesn't believe it. Maybe he doesn't think that they can win the war. Or maybe... Not together. As... the escape from his prison. This is this kind of situation they are in. He feels his heart clench in his chest. Dedue promised him. That he wouldn't ever throw his life. But he always considers himself as his shield. And would something threaten him on the battle field... Dimitri is not sure he could just stand by. But he won't let it happen again. He won't loose Dedue again. 

“Dedue... Let us make sure it happens.” Dimitri says, his eyes focused on his most cherished friend. “For the both of us. Do you agree?” 

Dedue turns around to see his prince. More than that, the man he would make sure becomes king. To the price of his life, would the need be. Or that is what he believed. He can hardly imagine leaving him again. Not after his words. He can see it in his blue eye. His will, the one that will carry them into battle. The honesty of his words. How much he wants this. For Dedue to survive. Maybe as much as Dedue wants him to survive. Needs him to survive.

“Yes, your Highness.” He agrees, because he doesn't have any other choices. His own heart would leave him any other choice. When his Highness said that he wanted a future for the both of them, he understood that he could not sacrifice his life again. Because he wanted it too. He would make sure they both survive. He would stand by him, not matter what. Not because of a debt, but because they had to win this war, together. They had an old promise to fulfill. They had a new world to build.

Dedue wanted to see this new world with his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments warm my heart and boost my motivation to 4/4  
Thank yooouuu!! (*o*)


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